His Type
by sellthelie
Summary: Harry comes to a startling conclusion...Harry
1. One of Two

**Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling**

**His Type**

**1/2**

**

* * *

**Harry let himself into Rons' flat, walking into the living area he found Ron in a position he was often found in. Sitting on his couch watching the TV. Ever since Hermione had introduced it to Ron the year before, and made it so he could watch Quidditch matches on it. He had became slightly addicted to it. Luckily his girlfriend understood that it was only a fleeting interest, and she was still more important than the TV. She was sitting in the chair next to the couch, curled up reading a magazine. 

He only received a nod in greeting from Ron, who couldn't tear himself away from the game.

"Hey Harry," Susan greeted looking up from her magazine.

"Hi," Harry said sitting down next to Ron, taking the butterbeer he passed to him. Cracking the top, he hit the bottle against Rons' and had a big pull on the sweet liquid. Settling in next to Ron, they sat in silence as they watched the game.

After the game was done and dusted Ron passed him another bottle, after he had a drink. "Well...it's over," he stated.

Susan looked up from her magazine, and with a small smile she looked back down.

"That's a shame," Ron said quietly, "What happened?"

"Don't know exactly," Harry said. "She just told me she had had enough, and she didn't want to see me anymore."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Well that was nice," Ron whistled, "She couldn't give you a reason?"

"I wasn't sticking around, her brother came round then, you know. The big one."

"Oh yeah, good call."

They both nodded their heads as they took another drink.

"Well least Hermione will be happy, she never liked her." Ron said after a minute.

"Yeah, I'll never understand that. I thought they would get along so well, they have a lot of things in common."

"Maybe that was the problem," Susan whispered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.

"Maybe they didn't get along, because they were so similar that it was a pain. Who wants to be friends with their identical twin?"

"Now that you mention it, they were a lot alike. God they even look similar," Ron mused.

"No they don't," Harry said quickly, "They don't look anything alike."

"No...same build, long brown hair, always carrying about ten books. Yep, they were the spitting image of each other," Ron said. "Hang on...all your girlfriends looked like that."

Harry had a drink, and thought about it. All of his girlfriends, bar Ginny back at Hogwarts looked like that. Remarkable.

"I guess you're right," Harry laughed, "I have a type."

"Imagine that," Susan said, tossing the magazine on the coffee table.

"Are you all right love?" Ron asked her, she did seem in a bit of a snooty mood in Harrys' opinion.

"I'm fine honey," Susan smiled. "Don't worry, I'm just amazed that they're people in this world who are denser than you. Not that I think you are stupid," she said quickly. "Some people just don't see the obvious," she finished looking at Harry. "I'm going out for a little while, be back soon," she leaned over and kissed Rons' cheek and left without saying anything to Harry.

"That was odd," Ron said, "She was in a really good mood today, ah...girls."

"Girls," Harry said. "Ron do you think I go for certain types? I seem to have a pattern."

Ron adopted a thoughtful gaze, "You do," he agreed. "They all seem to be like Hermione, isn't that strange!" He chuckled, as he began collecting the bottles up, "You finished?" He asked indicating the bottle in Harrys' hand.

"What? Oh, yeah," he passed him the empty bottle, his eyes following Ron as he moved into the kitchen. His head was miles away.

He had a type.

_**Just like Hermione, strange.**_

* * *

_...to be concluded..._


	2. Two of Two

**Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling **

**His Type**

**2/2**

* * *

It was all he could think about for the following week. Did he really go for girls that were just like Hermione? He did seem to have a pattern. Why didn't he see it before?

Harry decided enough was enough. So after a week of daydreams, and sleepless nights, he went to the one person who could help him out.

He found her at WWW's stocking shelves. She was studying to be a healer at the moment. She often came into the store on the weekends to fill in her time.

Hearing the bell on the door chime, she looked down from her position on the ladder and gave him a wide grin. "Hey Harry."

"Hi Gin," he replied, "Have you got a minute…or ten?"

Her eyes widened momentarily, "Well it sounds serious, so I'll give you ten," she hopped down. "Come out back, I'll make you a cuppa."

"A cuppa sounds great," Harry sighed, following her out to the back of the store, sidestepping some nasty looking wheezes.

Harry sunk into the overstuffed armchair in the office out the back, looking at the twins' glory wall. It was covered in stories from Wizarding newspapers across the country. Featuring articles about the things that happened as a result of their products. They were loved by children for their products, and hated universally by parents, and teachers everywhere.

"Here you go," Ginny said, passing him his cup of tea.

"Thanks," Harry replied, taking a sip.

"So…what's going on?" She asked as she sat down opposite him.

"Well, Laura ended things," Harry began.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Ginny interrupted, "That's a shame."

"I guess it wasn't meant to be," Harry said shaking his head. "I was just curious Gin, do you think I have a type?"

"A type?"

"You know, do I go for a certain type of girl?"

"…I'd say yes," she answered, "Apart from me, they have all been mighty similar, I'm surprised you didn't realise before now."

"Realise what?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"That you were virtually dating Hermione, it just wasn't her you were seeing."

Harry felt his mouth fall open. He opened and closed it a few times, trying to find the words.

"If it's any consolation," Ginny continued, "I think she has some feelings towards you."

"…uh…really?" Harry asked dumbly.

"Mm-hm, I'd say so. Some of the girls you've seen over the last few years have been lovely, but Hermione couldn't stand them. Gods even Mum thought they were good enough to be Mrs Harry Potter, but she still hated them," Ginny said, "Why would she feel that way, if she didn't have any feelings towards you?"

"She was just looking out for me, that's all," Harry said, trying to rationalise it in his own mind. "I do the same with her boyfriends, just like Ron does with yours."

"Ron has a reason with me, you're like some rabid Crup. Just searching for a reason to tear them limb from limb."

"I wasn't like that at all…"

"Damien," Ginny said simply.

"That was a genuine misunderstanding," Harry said waving his hand, "How was I supposed to know that that girl _was _his cousin? If she wasn't it would have been mighty suspicious for them to be having dinner together in that cosy bloody restaurant…"

"They were meeting Hermione there!"

"Whatever."

Ginny laughed, "If you don't get it by now Harry, Ron has definitely been a bad influence on you," she continued when she saw the confusion, "You have been dating virtual Hermiones, and every girlfriend you've had, bar me. She despised. Surely that tells you something."

Harry sat there for a minute. His mind was racing in a million different directions. "I think…Ithinkneed to go see her."

"That you do Mr Potter."

He got up, "Thanks Gin."

"Anytime Harry," she smiled.

* * *

Harry stood outside the door to Hermiones' flat. He'd been standing there for ten minutes when the door behind him opened, and an elderly man looked out.

"Bloody hell son, just knock on the flaming door," he said.

"Right, sorry," Harry smiled, turning around. He knocked on the door, he could hear the man chuckling as he shut his door.

A few moments later, the door opened and there she was.

"Harry!" She beamed, "Come in, you don't have to knock you know," she said as she stepped to the side to let him pass.

"Habit, and it's polite".

"Well, you are always welcome here, so it doesn't matter."

"Okay," Harry said as he entered her kitchen, curling his nose, "What's that smell?"

"Oh, I'm cleaning the oven," Hermione said, pulling some gloves on, "It was a dreadful mess."

"Why don't you just use magic?"

"I like to do it myself," Hermione laughed, "I feel better if I do it this way."

"Alright," Harry said, hopping up to sit on the counter.

"So what have you been up to?" Hermione asked as she leant into the oven.

Harry shook his head to focus his attention away from a part of Hermiones' body he'd never paid much attention to before, but was now all he could see. "Ah…well Laura and me parted ways."

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry. She seemed like a lovely girl."

"Are you Hermione?"

"Am I what?" She asked, pulling her head out of the oven.

"Are you really sorry?" He said hopping off the counter.

"Of course I am," Hermione said, standing up. "I want you to be happy Harry."

Harry noticed that a lock of her hair fallen from her knot at the back of her head, "I realised something recently," he whispered, brushing the hair behind her ear.

"What's that?" Hermione said quietly, licking her lips.

"I seem to have developed some kind of habit with the girls I've been seeing. I didn't notice that they were so similar, seems I'm attracted to a certain type of girl."

Hermione turned around and pulled the gloves off, "That's interesting."

"It is isn't it?" Harry moved behind her, "They all have the same brown hair…" he leaned forward, "That smells just like oranges," he said as the fragrance of her hair overwhelmed his senses.

"About the same height," he put his hands on her hips and moved closer, hearing her sharp intake of breath, "And the same build as you. Remarkable."

"Very," she whispered.

"But guess what the funny thing is," Harry whispered into her ear, "They are all so darn smart, I feel like the dumbest person on the planet when I'm with them."

Hermione turned around at that, "You aren't dumb Harry, you are one of the smartest people I now."

"Yeah, well it took me too bloody long to figure this out."

"Figure what out?" Hermione asked. Her eyes widening as he leant forward.

"This," he whispered as he kissed her.

She gasped as she realised his intention, her hands curling up in his shirt. When she began to kiss him back, Harry felt his heart beat a little faster.

Harry reached up and cupped her cheek in his hand, pulled her closer with his other hand on her back. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

"That's what I realised," Harry said quietly, "All these other girls, they were carbon copies of you. Without the most important ingredient…you."

"Oh Harry…"

"Do you…?"

"Yes, yes. A million times yes," Hermione cried, putting her hands around his neck and pulling his face down, "It's only been you for so long," she whispered before she kissed him again.

Harry felt like his heart was going to give out by how fast it was beating, but he had never felt more comfortable. Holding Hermione in his arms, knowing she felt the same way towards him. Well, there was no better feeling.

…

_Complete_


End file.
